


Sugar to Taste

by Strawberi_beri



Category: K-pop, NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Birthday Cake, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life, but like not a lot, dejun struggles in baking, just a bit saucy, mentioned doyoung and ten relationship, what do you even call this trio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26938756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberi_beri/pseuds/Strawberi_beri
Summary: There are many advantages to having two boyfriends, but unfortunately for Dejun that also means he can never do anything in peace. Or where he's trying to make a cake for Yangyang's special day but his boyfriend's are too good at being annoying.
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun, Liu Yang Yang/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun, Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun
Comments: 5
Kudos: 143





	Sugar to Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Yangyang day! It's technically over but not here so I'm still good! Hope you enjoy and sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors I was kind of in a rush writing this. Also, I need more of this trio I love them they're so crazy together lol

Stepping back to look at his spoils from war, Dejun nods his head proudly at the assortment of baking ingredients in front of him. Dejun had meant to go to the store to pick up everything yesterday, but having two—very clingy—boyfriends messes up his plans quite a bit. If Hendery and Yangyang weren’t so darn cute he would have left their annoying butts a long time ago; or so that’s what he keeps telling himself. Looking back down at the grocery list, Dejun takes out a few plastic bowls and starts opening bags of flour and sugar. To his astonishment he didn’t have to buy too much from the store: a few strawberries here, vanilla extract there, more flour and cream cheese. 

A simple, flavorful, cake recipe that Ten’s boyfriend, Doyoung, was kind enough to give him. Dejun sighs to himself as he starts measure flour, mind wandering to that mouth-watering dinner Doyoung hand prepared the five of them a week ago. Out of the two boyfriends he could get, not a single cooking aptitude between them; what a shame. 

Rummaging through one of the draws, he let’s out a small ‘aha’ as he tugs an apron out. The dark gray is slightly washed out, with thin, white checkered lines fading in certain areas. It’s Dejun’s favourite apron—their only apron. 

With a crack of his fingers, he turns to the flour first and starts carefully measuring out two-hundred-and-fifty grams of flour. He then pours it into a sifter as he slowly starts patting it against the pan. He watches as white, clumpless cake flour falls into the bowl. Dejun really hopes Yangyang likes the cake because he isn’t quite sure what to do with himself if his boyfriend doesn’t. Okay, that’s false, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’ll fling himself onto the couch in tears, complaining loudly at how unappreciated he is in this household. Just thinking about rejection has a few tears already forming in Dejun’s eyes. 

“Huh, Dejunnie, you’re back already,” Kunhang’s sleepy voice drifts from behind him. Quickly wiping his eyes, Dejun turns around towards his boyfriend. He tries to hold in a coo at Kunhang’s unruly bird’s nest that he calls hair, but he can’t resist a good hug as he quickly finds himself enveloped in the sleepy man’s arms. “You could have woken me up, I would’ve went shopping with you,” Kunhang pouts and oh no, he’s not starting this. 

Dejun quickly peels himself away as he shakes his head. “You know if I took you we would’ve been there for hours! Plus, you looked really tired and I didn’t want to wake you up.” 

Kunhang’s eyes just grow impossibly larger though as he takes a few steps toward Dejun. Darn his boyfriend for being tall! Dejun takes a step back, and another, and another, right until his back hits the granite counter. 

Dejun gulps as he watches Kunhang’s mouth open, pearly-white teeth on display and a knowing look in his eyes. Oh god, Dejun thinks, please don’t ask. Don’t ask, don’t ask—god strike him down where he stands- 

“Can I help you?” 

A ‘no’ is on the tip of Dejun’s tongue but when he meets Kunhang’s gaze his resolve melts immediately. Dammit, Ten was right, he’s way too weak when it comes to Kunhang and Yangyang. Quick brain! Think of an excuse. Dejun closes his eyes and every moment he’s let Kunhang or Yangyang help him in the kitchen flashes before his eyes like old war memories. The amount of cleanup he has to do afterwords is astronomical, really. He’d have an easier time cooing with a literal child! But when Dejun opens his eyes again Kunhang’s wide gaze is accompanied with the cutest pout and—“Ugh! Fine, you can help.” 

Kunhang pumps a fist in the air as he quickly bounds over to the sifted flour. “Cool! What do you want me to do boss?” 

“Not set anything on fire,” Dejun’s eyes scan the countertop before he hands Kunhang a carton of eggs and a bowl, “crack five eggs in here and then add some milk. The instructions are on my phone for the amount.” Placing his phone on the counter, recipe in full display, Dejun turns back to his own ingredients. 

He starts adding the other dry ingredients in, baking soda and powder, sugar, salt, and then he whisks them lightly together. He stops briefly to look at Kunhang who’s concentrating on not getting any eggshell into the bowl; bless his heart. It’s not that Dejun has no faith in his boyfriend’s cooking ability, but also that’s exactly what it is. He’s no cooking savant by any means but compared to the other two he’s a five-star chef. His brain, for whatever reason, thinks about the time Yangyang tried to cook an omelet in the microwave and it came out too raw. The youngest still ate it anyway and Dejun had to deal with vomit for a week. Dejun shivers at the memory. 

Deeming Kunhang fine, Dejun preheats their ancient oven (they really need to find a better apartment) as he tries not to bump into Kunhang. Another drawback of dating someone tall, if you have a tiny kitchen they will take a up most of the room. “Hey, can you move? I need to get the electric mixer.” 

“Oh, sorry.” 

Dejun squats as he starts rifling through all the kitchen gadgets they don’t use enough. There’s an ice-cream maker, a slow-cooker, and...Dejun scrunches his face as he sets aside a cotton-candy machine as the label reads. Okay, he’s really going to have to talk to Yangyang about buying unnecessary stuff. 

“Where’s the mixer?” 

“Might be top shelf? Remember, you asked Yangyang to help you make room for the new rice-cooker.” 

Dammit, Dejun does remember that! Okay, if he was Yangyang where would he put the—oh. Dejun groans as he looks at the highest shelves they have. Last time he touched them was a year ago because why would he put things in such an inconvenient place? God, who knows what could be up there now. A bunch of spiders, dead bugs, maybe a rabid raccoon that Yangyang keeps secretly as a pet. 

“Kunhang, can you reach into the top shelf and get the mixer for me.” 

“Oh, now you want my help?” 

“Oh my god, do not start-” 

“I didn’t hear a please,” Kunhang sings off key, a wicked smirk across his stupidly handsome face, “what do I get in return?” 

“Not a kick to your kneecaps,” Dejun grunts, face slowly heating up as Kunhang leans down to eye-level. 

Kunhang’s tongue peeks out and Dejun watches (more than he wants) as it trails over the man’s pink lips and leaves them shimmering in the kitchen light. He gulps slightly as Kunhang leans more until their lips are just a breath away. He can still smell the cologne that lingers on the taller man’s hoodie; woodsy with a hint of citrus fruit. “Can I get a kiss,” Kunhang breaths out as soft puffs of air hit Dejun’s face. 

Pulled out from Kunhang’s spell, Dejun’s eyebrows furrow as he backs away before the urge to slam their lips together get the best of him. Just a kiss? Odd, considering Kunhang is a brat and likes to ask for outrageous demands. 

“Fine, you can have one,” Dejun holds up one finger for effect, “kiss. Now hurry up.” 

Kunhang salutes and opens the highest shelf and brings down the electric mixer. Sadly, it’ll probably have to go back up there because there’s no way it can fit anywhere else. Before Dejun can grab it though, Kunhang sets it behind him and blocks the way. 

“Now, about that kiss.” 

“Oh my god, you giant dork,” Dejun groans as he grabs Kunhang by the collar of his hoodie and brings their lips together. 

It’s meant to just be a chaste kiss, barely a touch. Kunhang didn’t get that memo though as one hand slithers to hold Dejun by the waist, the other hand gripping his chin and tilting it up. There’s a hint of a moan bubbling up Dejun’s throat that Kunhang eagerly swallows. The kiss quickly grows deeper, Kunhang’s tongue peeking out and licking at Dejun’s own. Oh, to hell with it. 

Dejun winds his arms around Kunhang’s neck and allows the taller man to place him on the counter. The cold of the granite slowly seeps through Dejun’s shorts, cooling his flaming skin but it isn’t enough to make him stop. His back arches the tiniest bit and a small whine echoes back into his ears. He prays to god it wasn’t him who made that sound. 

“So cute,” Kunhang hums lowly as he eventually pulls away, lips redder and shiny with spit. Dejun tries not to whine as the pad of Kunhang’s thumb runs across his cheekbone. Dejun absentmindedly licks at his lips as he takes in Kunhang’s even more disheveled appearance and dark eyes. Damn the taller man for being cute and sexy at the same time! And also curse his stupid young libido for getting all hot and bothered over a simple make-out session. 

“Can’t wait for the cake,” Kunhang grins impishly before bending down and planting a small kiss on Dejun’s forehead. 

Dejun can only blink rapidly as he watches Kunhang exit the tiny kitchen and leaves his sight. “Ugh, that idiot just wait,” he grumbles as he opens the freezer door in a desperate attempt to cool down certain areas. 

Finishing up the batter, Dejun sighs quietly as he pours it into a circular pan and places it in the oven. The batter itself doesn’t look too unappetizing. At least it come out a pretty pink color and not some gross puke color like he thought it might’ve been. Again, he isn’t the greatest cook but even a terrible cake is still a pretty okay cake. Wiping his hands on his apron, Dejun starts placing some bowls in the sink and packs away most of the ingredients to make room for the icing. 

From the otherside of the apartment he can hear Kunhang’s shouts of displeasure as he yells something about ‘cover me’ repeatedly. Despite himself, Dejun smiles at his boyfriend’s frantic voice. Setting his phone on a timer, he starts placing cream cheese and a store-bought strawberry puree together. Now that he thinks about it, he’s kind of the black-sheep of the trio. While Yangyang and Kunhang love to game together, Dejun much prefers watching movies and listening to music. He’s even getting a degree to perform in an ensemble. Still, despite their differences Dejun managed to fall in love with the both of them like an idiot. 

As Dejun’s busy reminiscing their first meeting, the front door opens and shuts. He doesn’t hear the encroaching footsteps but he does feel a pair of arms wrap around him and Dejun shouts. Before he knows it, he’s being lifted in the air and twirled around before being set back down. 

“Liu Yangyang,” he hisses at the slightly taller boy, “what have I told you about doing that,” he whines as he slaps the youngers chest repeatedly. Unlike Kunhang, Yangyang isn’t that much taller than him, but there’s enough of a difference there that Dejun has to crane his neck a bit to be able to see into the younger’s eyes. At least, he would be looking into Yangyang’s eyes if it weren’t for his long bangs covering them. 

Dejun huffs as he gently sweeps the hair back only to frown as the silver locks fall back into place. “You really need to get a haircut,” he muses, turning back to the icing at hand. He’s about to plug in the mixer until Yangyang beats him to it. 

“You do know cakes are usually a surprise too, right,” Yangyang teases as he leans his hip against the end of the counter. 

“Yeah, I was hoping to have it done but Kunhang wanted to help and that really slowed me down,” Dejun admits as he thinks about Kunhang’s ‘help’, his face heating up in the process. “Anyways, go away while I finish the icing!” 

Yangyang eyes grow wide as his lower lip juts out. Oh god, a Yangyang pout is even worse than a Kunhang pout. Yangyang’s features compared to the rest of them are still more boyish. It’s a face that reminds Dejun of a crush he had in his hometown when he was eight. Because he loves cliches, the boy was also his neighbor and a very dear friend. It never went anywhere but when Dejun stares into Yangyang’s eyes he’s reminded of shy glances and passing notes in class. But also, the birthday boy is the literal devil and Dejun will not tolerate being manipulated like this! 

“No, you can’t help me,” he whines as he tries to push Yangyang out to no avail, “you’re the birthday boy anyway! You should be relaxing, or doing your homework.” 

“Ugh, don’t even remind me about that,” Yangyang huffs, “I know three languages and currently studying a fourth but grammar structures and syntax are kicking my ass right now.” 

Dejun sighs as he pats Yangyang’s fluffy hair. “There, there, my little polygloop.” 

Yangyang giggles as he holds Dejun’s hand in his, “It’s polyglot, gege, not polygloop.” 

Dejun chuckles before sighing. “Fine, you can help since you called me gege. Just mix together icing for a few minutes and maybe I’ll let you lick the paddles.” Dejun instantly regrets saying the last part because Yangyang moves to the bowl faster than light and starts the mixer up. If there’s one thing in this household neither of his boyfriends need, it’s more sugar. 

He swears, if he didn’t mix vegetables into their meal the two would’ve definitely died via diabetes by now. He once had to show a picture of an eggplant to Kunhang so he knew what to pick up at the store—those were dark times. 

“Ah, wait, Yang don’t just-” Dejun’s words die in his throat as Yangyang starts the mixer on the highest power setting. Cream cheese and strawberry puree go flying around the kitchen despite the short time of turning on. 

Yangyang winces as he turns around, shirt stained with pink as cream cheese chunks slowly slide down his face. “Um, I think I messed up,” the youngest says with a sheepish grin. Dejun just groans before wetting a kitchen towel and wiping down the counter and certain spots on their wall. He doubts he got every spot and a few days from now he’ll most definitely step on something sticky. That is, if the ants don’t eat it all up first. 

“I’ll take care of it later,” he grunts, thankful that he’s wearing an apron or he’d have to change too, “just, try it on the lower setting first.” 

Yangyang vigorously nods as he wipes away the mixture on Dejun’s apron. He starts again, going on the lowest setting, and Dejun hums thoughtfully as he watches the icing start to go to a lighter pink. It takes a few minutes for it to whip up, and when it’s finally done Dejun reaches over to turn it off. Immediately, Yangyang dips a finger in and sticks it in his mouth, finger coming out clean as he nods. 

“This tastes really good, Dejun, you should try it!” 

Oh god, if Doyoung were here shadowing he would definitely scold the younger for dipping his fingers in. Although, if Doyoung were here he’d probably have a lot more health violations to complain about. 

“Eh, why not.” 

Dipping his own finger in, Dejun licks the frosting and shrugs. It’s not the worst thing but it’s kind of one note. Maybe he overdid it on the strawberries? Before Dejun can critique the cake before it’s even assembled, Yanyang has his finger in the icing again and wipes a pink stripe across Dejun’s cheek. 

“Yangyang,” Dejun shouts as he tries to punch the other but barely misses, “you brat! Get a rag and wipe it off.” 

A mischievous glint shines in Yangyang’s eyes that has Dejun immediately regretting his words. Oh god, he should have just kept his mouth shut and cleaned it off himself. In hindsight, he only has himself to blame for whatever torture Yangyang is concocting in his brain. 

Letting himself be bracketed into the younger’s embrace, Dejun tries not to squirm as Yangyang brings his lips by Dejun’s ear. “Okay, gege,” he breathes out. It starts out pretty tame at first, Yangyang peppers tiny kisses all over his face: a few on his forehead, one on his nose, some by his non-frosted cheek. But then he switches over to the side where there’s icing and Dejun feels his soul leave his body as a wet tongue laps over the icing. Yangyang keeps at it for a few seconds, definitely too long for the amount of icing that was there, but Dejun stays stockstill. On one hand he’s curious to see where this is going, on the other he wants to chastise the youngest that he can’t just be licking him while he’s trying to cook. 

As Dejun fights the ongoing war in his head (loosing quite spectacularly), Yangyang’s mouth travels down his face until the youngest is mouthing at his neck. The kisses there are more open-mouthed, tiny nips here and there before a tongue peeks out to soothe the no doubt pink skin. Darn Yangyang and knowing his weak points! Dejun bites the inside of his cheek as he grips Yangyang’s arms, desperately trying not to let his legs buckle under the frenzied kisses. 

Before Yangyang’s mouth can trail any lower, however; Dejun’s phone beeps obnoxiously to tell them the cake’s done. 

“Oh thank god,” Dejun whispers as he uses Yangyang’s loosened grip against him to slip away. Getting some kitchen mittens, he opens the oven and takes out the darker pink cake. Yangyang just sighs and mumbles something about ‘playing with Kunhang’ before he plants one last kiss on Dejun’s cheek and walks away. 

“God, what is with them today,” Dejun asks to himself because he’s slowly going crazy. The kitchen doesn’t answer back. 

“So, are you going to get out the cake,” Kunhang questions as brings his plate over to the kitchen sink. Yangyang, being the menace he is, just repeatedly sings ‘cake’ as Dejun goes over to the fridge. 

The cake didn’t turn out to be a complete abomination, thank god. Dejun sets the giant plate down, the pink cake swaying softly as the top is decorated with cherries and blueberries. Dejun thought about trying to write ‘Happy Birthday’ on it with white icing, but he decided against it because he really didn’t feel like ruining a perfectly good cake. Yangyang’s eyes light up and Kunhang ruffles the youngest’s hair as he starts singing happy birthday. 

When Yangyang blows out the tiny sparklers on the cake, Dejun cuts into it and tries to hold back his tears. After slaving over the oven for hours and dealing with two annoying men, he’s sad he can’t just keep the cake forever. Their happy faces better be worth it or he’s throwing himself out the window. Or better yet, he’ll just toss both of his boyfriend’s out and get a new one. Ten knows a lot of hot guys. 

“Well,” Dejun says as he stares at the two, “how is it?” 

“It’s really good, Dejunnie,” Yangyang shouts as he takes a giant forkful and shovels it into his mouth. Kunhang eats with much less gusto, but he lets out hums of agreement anyways. Dejun exhales loudly as he finally serves himself. 

A small moan leaves his lips as he takes the first bite, finally feeling like he can relax. The icing is a little too sweet but the cake itself is soft and fluffy. Humming in happiness around another forkful, Dejun looks at his two boyfriends curiously. Yangyang’s a few bites away from finishing his piece while Kunhang’s only half-way done, but both have their forks down and a rather salacious smile thrown Dejun’s way. 

“You know,” Yangyang starts, “since it’s my birthday and all I think I want something else for dessert.” 

Kunhang plays along with an ever growing smile, “Ya’ know, I think I want something else too.” 

Before Dejun can ask what, Yangyang crosses over to his side of the table and plants a chaste kiss on Dejun’s parted lips. 

“O-Oh, well, since it’s your birthday,” Dejun rushes the words out and chairs screech against the floor as the three of them race to the bedroom. 

The next morning, Dejun wakes up squished between two naked bodies. He’s about to let himself fall back into a nice, deep slumber before he bolts back up, eyes wide. 

“Fuck, the cake!” 

**Author's Note:**

> And then Dejun cries over his stale cake and Yangyang offers to buy a new one.


End file.
